Chapter Two
The next week seems to crawl by at snail's pace. Despite his days being filled with briefings, flying sorties and paperwork, Logan's still distracted. He really shouldn't be; distractions can be dangerous in this line of work, but he can't help it. Logically, he knows he shouldn't have anything to worry about, but that doesn't stop the jealousy he feels every time he thinks about the fact that Veronica will be seeing Piz in New York this weekend.
It's probably irrational, but he can't help sending her emails whenever he can, just to remind her that he's still here, to make sure she doesn't forget him.
From: logan. echolls at navy. mil
To: vmars at gmail. com
Date: 3rd Feb 2016 14:03 PST (4th Feb 2016 09:03 ship time)
Subject: Paperwork sucks
Procrastination is the art of keeping up with yesterday - Don Marquis
On desk duty this morning—what fun!
L
P.S. How about next Tuesday for Skype – 8 pm your time?
From: vmars at gmail. com
To: logan. echolls at navy. mil
Date: 3rd Feb 2016 14:06 PST (4th Feb 2016 09:06 ship time)
Subject: RE: Paperwork sucks
Back to the inspirational quotes, I see.
I know what you mean… seems my father doesn't have much of a filing system here. It's taking hours to go through it all.
V
P.S. 8 pm next Tuesday sounds great.
From: logan. echolls at navy. mil
To: vmars at gmail. com
Date: 3rd Feb 2016 14:09 PST (4th Feb 2016 09:09 ship time)
Subject: Quotes away
I'll have you know my inspirational quotes have been very influential in the past. Or so I've been told.
So here, have one more:
Definiteness of purpose is the starting point of all achievement. –W. Clement Stone
L
P.S. It's a date. Tuesday night… well, Wednesday morning for me.
From: logan. echolls at navy. mil
To: vmars at gmail. com
Date: 3rd Feb 2016 14:15 PST (4th Feb 2016 09:15 ship time)
Subject: RE: Quotes away
A day without sunshine is like, you know, night –Steve Martin
Exactly how I feel stuck at a desk on this tin can right now.
L
From: logan. echolls at navy. mil
To:vmars at gmail. com
Date: 3rd Feb 2016 14:18 PST (4th Feb 2016 09:18 ship time)
Subject: RE: Quotes away
Throw off the bowlines, sail away from safe harbor, catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore, Dream, Discover. –Mark Twain
L
From: logan. echolls at navy. mil
To: vmars at gmail. com
Date: 3rd Feb 2016 14:23 PST (4th Feb 2016 09:23 ship time)
Subject: RE: Quotes away
When everything seems to be going against you, remember that the airplane takes off against the wind, not with it. – Henry Ford
L
From: vmars at gmail. com
To: logan. echolls at navy. mil
Date: 3rd Feb 2016 14:27 PST (4th Feb 2016 09:27 ship time)
Subject: RE: Quotes away
Are you just sitting there Googling navy flying quotes?
Do some work, Logan.
V
Logan grins at the computer screen in the Ready Room. It's only 9:30 on Thursday morning and he's not flying, which means he has a whole day of paper-pushing ahead of him… and he can't think of anything more boring.
From: logan. echolls at navy. mil
To: vmars at gmail. com
Date: 3rd Feb 2016 14:30 PST (4th Feb 2016 09:30 ship time)
Subject: RE: Quotes away
My sincerest apologies, ma'am. I'll get to work right away.
After all:
The harder I work, the luckier I get. –Samuel Goldwyn
L
From: vmars at gmail. com
To: logan. echolls at navy. mil
Date: 3rd Feb 2016 14:33 PST (4th Feb 2016 09:33 ship time)
Subject: RE: Quotes away
Something you're not telling me, Lieutenant? Because you'd better not be getting lucky for another 164 days.
V
Logan spends the whole weekend on edge, determinedly trying not to think about Veronica being in New York with Piz. He's not particularly successful; a number of different scenarios keep running through his head, none of them good, and by the time Wednesday morning comes around he's the verge of meltdown.
In the end, though, it turns out he needn't have worried.
"It was awful, Logan," Veronica admits over Skype. "Like, really awkward."
Is it bad that he's immensely relieved to hear that?
"I'm sorry," he says.
"I told him what time I would get there," she says in frustration. "I thought he'd make himself scarce, you know, so things wouldn't be awkward. But because I can't seem to catch a break, he was still home when I arrived and then wouldn't leave."
A streak of irrational anger flashes through him and he sits forward in his chair. "Did he do anything to you? 'Cause if he did, I'll—"
"Hold your horses, Echolls." Veronica cuts him off sharply, holding up a hand. "He didn't do anything."
Logan lets out the breath he was holding, forcing himself to calm down. "Good."
"It was just…" She sighs. "God, he just stood there, the whole time, with this look on his face like I was something he just stepped in."
"Geez…"
"And of course, he couldn't help getting in some pointed jibes about you." She scowls, holding up her finger and thumb. "I was this close to punching him in the mouth."
He smiles, hoping it will ease the tension. "I would have paid good money to see that."
She narrows her eyes, though her lips twitch up in amusement. "I bet you would."
"You got all your stuff, though?"
"Yeah, thank God," she says. "I'm shipping it all back here, so it'll be a few days—couldn't afford the excess baggage fees."
The way she says it, along with the slight wince she tries to hide, makes Logan realise something. He just doesn't know how to broach the subject without offending her.
"Veronica?"
"Yeah?"
He tries to pick his words carefully. "With your dad out of commission, are you guys okay, you know, money-wise?"
He holds his breath, waits for the explosion, but nothing comes. Instead, her silence, coupled with the way she's biting her lip, says it all.
"Not really, no," she says eventually. "There isn't really any money coming in right now, and there's the hospital bills, and the New York trip, not to mention my student loans. And, God, Mac left Kane Software to work for us and she really could use a salary of some kind…." She shrugs, looking determined. "But we'll manage."
"Let me help you." It just slips out, and once it's out there, hanging in the air between them—well, between him and the computer screen—there's no taking it back.
As predicted, she shakes her head vehemently. "No, Logan. This is my problem. I'm not taking your money."
"You can't survive without an income, Veronica." He rubs the back of his neck. "Let me help. Please? I mean, it's just sitting in my account, not being spent. Let me put it to good use."
"I can't, Logan," she says, even though there's regret in her eyes. "It would feel too much like charity."
It's not unexpected, but it stings all the same. "It wouldn't be charity, Veronica, I promise. But if you're that worried, it'll be a loan and you can pay me back later."
She bites her lip again, seemingly considering it. "A loan? Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Okay." She nods slowly, then holds up a finger to the screen. "But I will pay you back; every penny, I promise."
"Okay."
Of course, he has no intention of letting her pay it back, but she doesn't need to know that. Aaron's money has been sitting in his account for years, mostly untouched other than a few essential expenses—like his house and the car. He can't quite bring himself to spend it unless he has to, so it might as well be used for something good.
"I'll email my accountant. He'll contact you about a transfer."
"All right. Fine." She still looks reluctant. "But don't get any ideas about grand gestures in your head, okay? Just enough to keep us afloat until I can get a few paying clients, and that's all."
"That's fine."
"Okay."
She seems to relax then, the slope of her shoulders indicating relief, and he wonders how much of her protest against his offer was, in fact, just a front.
He glances at the clock. His Skype timeslot is nearly up.
"Sorry," he says apologetically. "I only have a couple minutes left."
She nods. "That's okay. Will you be able to talk again soon?"
"Not sure." He checks the schedule. "There's a free slot at 11 pm your time on Saturday. We could try for that."
"Okay. I can do that."
"But we'll be reaching our operating area in the next few days, so the comms might go dark for a while," he adds. "I'll try to let you know if that's going to happen."
"Sure, no problem."
"But if I can't, don't worry if you don't hear from me for a while, okay? It's just standard procedure."
"Okay."
She smiles at the camera then, looking straight into it, and her eyes meet his on the screen.
"I miss you," she says softly, and he grins widely at the admission.
She lowers her gaze to the screen, and he reciprocates her gesture, looking directly into his camera now. "I miss you, too."
"Be careful, okay?"
"I will." He nods. "You too."
It's been nine days since Logan last talked to Veronica and five days since their last email exchange. As he suspected, the comms on the ship went dark Friday morning, so other than a quick email to let her know what was going on, they haven't been able to communicate since. Now it's Thursday evening and although comms came back this morning, so many people have been trying to get online that the earliest internet slot he can get is Saturday morning.
So instead, he's relaxing on his bunk in the stateroom, hands behind his head as he listens to Veronica's voice in his ear. The track entitled For When You Need to De-stress… is playing, and it's just what he needs after the long day he's had. If he closes his eyes, he can imagine she's here with him on the ship instead of eight thousand miles away in Southern California.
It's not unusual for tensions to rise on the carrier as they approach their designated area of operation. They might have been on the ship for almost a month already, but they only reached the Persian Gulf a couple of days ago and are scheduled to start flying operational missions tomorrow. Today has been all about preparation: briefing tomorrow's mission, planning their strategies, taking part in last minute training on war zone operations, and being briefed on what to do if you end up landing or ejecting over enemy territory.
Logan's been feeling the anxiety building steadily through the day, his muscles tight and coiled, adrenaline thrumming through his veins. He tried to release some of the nervous energy on a punching bag in the gym earlier. Didn't help much. Right now though, listening to Veronica's soft calming voice through his headphones is making all the difference and he loses himself in a world where they're together, having a lazy day on the beach, and she's spreading sunscreen across his back, massaging it into his shoulders, her fingers leaving tingles along his skin.
"Yo, Mouth!" Chaos' voice filters through Veronica's soothing words.
"Oof." Logan startles as a package lands on his stomach. "What the hell, man?"
He shoots Chaos a glare as he sits up, pulling the headphones out of his ears. His squadron-mate is grinning at him unapologetically.
"You have mail."
"Yeah, I see that." he says dryly. "Thanks."
He reaches for the package in his lap, turning it over to see his name written in Veronica's familiar handwriting. The sight of it makes him smile. It's postmarked 27th January, which means she mailed it just a few days after he left.
"So, who's sending you mail?" asks Chaos, still standing in the middle of the small room. "It's Veronica, right?"
"Yeah." Logan nods, gaze returning to the parcel in his hands. "It is."
Chaos doesn't say anything for a moment, but he also doesn't leave. Logan looks up to find his friend still grinning at him.
"Dude, what?"
His friend just shakes his head. "Nothin'. It's just… she's totally got you under her spell, man."
Logan scowls. "Fuck off."
"No, I mean, it's good," says Chaos. "'S about time you had someone, you know, lookin' out for you."
"Yeah." Logan nods. "She's…"
"Fuckin' hot?" Chaos nods towards the small photo of Veronica pinned up next to his bed.
"Dude, stop drooling over my girl." Logan scrunches his nose. "Aren't you happily married?"
"Of course." Chaos nods. "Doesn't mean I can't appreciate a beautiful woman." His friend grins. "So, she's 'your girl' now, huh?"
Logan opens his mouth to give a sarcastic retort, but Chaos is watching him with a small smile, the teasing expression gone, so he just nods.
"Yeah, I think she is."
"Good for you." Chaos nods, then gestures to the mail package. "So, you gonna open it, or what?"
"Well, I would have already, if someone wasn't still standing here," he says pointedly.
His friend throws his hands up in surrender. "Okay, fine, I'm going."
Logan waits until Chaos has departed the small room before he turns his attention to the parcel. With a grin, he tears into it, finding a small collection of numbered brown-paper-wrapped gifts and an envelope resting on top, his name and the words 'Open First' scrawled across the front. He reaches for the envelope, sliding his finger under the opening and pulling out a folded piece of paper: a handwritten letter.
Logan,
As a rule, I don't trust the USPS to deliver anything within the US, let alone to an aircraft carrier, so fingers crossed you actually get this.
I hope you're doing okay. You've only been gone a few days, but I guess by the time you read this, it'll have been a few weeks.
Okay, so this is the rule: you have to open the gifts in order, starting with number 1. So, go ahead…
Logan smiles, putting down the letter and reaching for the first gift. It's small and rectangular. He tears off the paper to reveal a pack of playing cards. Turning them over in his hand, he reaches for the letter again.
…I figured you could use this time to brush up on your poker skills for when you come home. You remember how I used to always beat you, right? (I'm sure you're protesting right now, but you can't deny it; we both know the truth).
Okay, time to stop thinking about how much better I am at poker than you and move on to number 2…
Logan chuckles and reaches for the next gift. This one is also rectangular, but it's longer and flexible. He opens it to find three packets of Red Vines. He grins. She still remembers?
They've been his favourite candy for years… ever since he came home one afternoon in freshman year to find Veronica and Lilly sunbathing by his pool, clad in bikinis that left little to his 14-year-old imagination, and sucking on Red Vines. After that afternoon, he couldn't eat them without thinking of the two of them in those bikinis. It was something he admitted to Veronica that summer after graduation when she produced a packet and offered him one when they were hanging out at the beach one weekend. After he told the story, she stripped down to her swimsuit, grabbed some of the candy and struck a seductive pose for him.
…. I bet I know what you're thinking right now: where's the bikini-clad Veronica? But don't fear, just open gift number 3….
With anticipation, Logan lifts the gift in question—this one thin and flat—and unwraps it. His lips curl up in an indulgent smile when he realises she's sent printed photos, the picture on top being one he remembers taking of her at the beach a few weeks ago. She's kneeling up in the sand in that gorgeous green bikini, sunglasses covering her eyes and the wind sweeping her hair across her shoulder as she poses with one hand on her hip like she's a pin-up in Sports Illustrated. He grins. She might look amazing in the photo, but he remembers how she could barely keep a straight face through the whole thing. Right after he took it, she burst out laughing and shoved at his shoulder, tackling him to the ground.
Logan moves it to the bottom of the pile and flicks through the rest. There are a few of the two of them together, both recent and from when they were teenagers, a couple of old pictures of her and Backup, and one of the four of them—Veronica, Lilly, Duncan and him—together at Homecoming that year. He finishes going through them, already picturing how he will arrange them on the bulkhead next to his bunk, and returns to the letter.
…Hope you like them. I wasn't sure what to include, so I put together a collection of different ones. I know you already have some photos on your iPod, but I heard you military types like to pin them up by your beds, so I figured I owed you some real ones.
Right, next gift… number 4. Go ahead, open it…
Logan frowns as he reaches for the next one. It's small and light and… kinda soft. He can't think what on Earth it might be. His eyes widen in surprise as he opens it to reveal… a striped, woman's t-shirt. What the fuck? He picks up the letter again.
…Don't worry, I haven't mistaken you for Mac. This is one of mine… which I expect to get back in about 5 months, by the way. I thought since I've kind of commandeered a few of your shirts, you might like something to remind you of me too. I know, I know, I'm getting all mushy now. Trust me, it's between us only. Can't have people around town thinking I'm going soft.
Logan lifts the shirt from the wrapping and brings it to his nose, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume, mixed with her own unique scent. He feels a lump starting to develop in his throat and quickly swallows it down, all too aware that someone could walk in at any minute and see him getting all sentimental.
As per the next instruction, he opens the final gift. This one is much smaller, only a couple of inches long by about an inch wide. Logan's brow furrows as he unpeels the paper and tips the contents into his palm. It's a small USB flash drive. Blinking at it, bemused, he continues reading.
Okay, so you're probably looking at it in confusion, right? Maybe turning it over in your hand, trying to figure out what it's supposed to be for? All I'm going to say about this one is that you should plug it in and see what's on it.
So, that's it. I wasn't sure what kind of things I should send, so I hope you like everything. If there's anything else you want, just let me know and I'll see what I can do.
Thinking of you,
Veronica
With a smile, Logan neatly folds the letter and puts it to one side, before sliding off the bunk and extracting his laptop from his locker, suddenly glad he decided to bring it with him. He fires it up and slots the flash drive into a USB slot, eagerly anticipating what might be on it. He clicks into the drive and finds two folders inside: Music and Videos.
With a grin, he clicks on Music and then immediately snorts a laugh at the list of albums inside: N'Sync, No Strings Attached, Celebrity and The Essential N'Sync. Thanks a lot, Veronica. But it's the final album title in the list that really catches his attention: For When You (Take 2)…
He opens the folder, eyes scanning over the track list—some of the titles are the same as the ones on his iPod, just new recordings, and others have different descriptions. Logan feels a surge of emotion threatening to bubble up from his chest and presses his lips together in an attempt to stop it. If he thought Veronica was amazing before… God, he doesn't even know how to describe how he's feeling about her right this second.
Hang on, he thinks then, if she's sending me more recordings, does that mean I don't have to make the other ones last?
It's been taking all of his willpower not to devour every single mp3 track and video file right away, but instead to save them so he has new things to watch and listen to later in the tour, when he's bored and fed up.
Perusing the video folder next, he smiles when he sees the list of movies she's uploaded to the drive. Several of his favourites, and even some of hers, are on there, and he grins when he sees Easy Rider and The Big Lebowski in the list. He's a little disappointed to note that there are no homemade videos this time, but he figures she probably didn't have much time to put any together before mailing the package. Besides, what she's sent is more than enough.
Early Saturday morning finds Logan finally in the computer lab after over a week of no internet access other than for deployment-related data transmissions. He's been planning to send Veronica a thank you email, but when he sits down at the PC, he figures he might as well see if she's around to talk to instead. He glances at the clock. It's 07:30 hours local time, which makes it 20:30 Friday night in Neptune. He clicks on the Skype icon, his knee bouncing impatiently while he waits. A few seconds later, a wide smile lights up his face, her profile showing she's online, and with an anxious exhale, he presses the call button.
Come on, Veronica. Please be there.
It rings several times and Logan's on the verge of hanging up when the call finally connects. He frowns at the screen, when all he sees is her mid-section and part of her arm.
"Hey, Mac, what've you got?" She sounds distracted, her voice coming from somewhere above the screen.
"Uh, it's not Mac," he says, trying not to grin.
Her body freezes for a second before she quickly sits down in front of the screen, looking shocked.
"Logan? What are you—I thought you didn't have comms?"
"They came back Thursday, but I couldn't get online until this morning," he explains. "Thought I'd see if you were around."
She smiles, her whole face lighting up, and the delight on her face makes him smile too.
God, she's beautiful.
"Then it's a good thing I postponed dinner with Wallace, otherwise you wouldn't have caught me." She makes a face. "Gotta work late."
"You're at the office?" he asks, then realises that it's obvious she is, considering the smart clothes and the large windows behind her.
"Yeah, new case came up a couple of days ago," she says. "I have Mac looking into a couple of things for me right now."
"Anything interesting?"
She shrugs. "Just your typical cheating husband scandal. Not exactly newsworthy, but it's a paying client." She pauses, looking uncomfortable, as if it's going to be a struggle to put what she wants to say into words. "Uh, thank you, you know, for the extra funds. They've been very helpful, especially since I don't think Mac will agree to work for free for much longer."
"Happy to help," he says.
She gives a small smile. He understands her hesitance to accept the money. After all this time, she obviously still hates having to rely on anyone else for anything.
She lowers her head for a moment, then looks up, directly at the screen. "Anyway, enough about me; how are you? You look good."
"Yeah, things are okay here." He nods. "Not much to say, really. We're, uh, operational now. I flew the first official mission yesterday."
She nods, taking that in. "Well, I would ask how it went, but I'm guessing you can't talk about it."
"That's a no. Sorry."
"No, it's okay. I get it," she says. "But things are good?"
"Yeah, except for missing you," he admits.
Her expression softens, a small smile gracing her features. It reminds him of how she looked at him the morning he left. "I miss you, too."
He smiles then. "I got your package on Thursday."
"Which one?"
"Uh, the first one, I guess," he replies, then frowns. "Wait, there's more than one?"
"There might be," she replies reticently.
"Sweet." He grins.
"I take it you liked the first one, then?" She looks a little apprehensive. "I wasn't really sure what to send, so—"
"It was perfect." He cuts her off quickly, then says sincerely. "Thank you."
"Really?"
"Definitely." He nods, then gives a smirk. "Though, I'm not sure that shirt will fit me."
"Oh, ha, ha." She narrows her eyes at him playfully.
"I'm also pretty sure I used to beat you at poker more often than not."
She presses her lips together, her eyes dancing. "You sure about that? Need I remind you of a certain game in your pool house, Christmas of junior year?"
He scoffs. "A fluke, of course."
"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that." She laughs, and the sound causes a wave of longing to flow over him.
"Has it been 180 days yet?" The words just slip out of his mouth. "It must be getting close, right?"
He's only half-joking.
She shakes her head, sobering slightly. "Still 147 to go. Sorry."
"Well, shit." He slumps back in his chair.
"Tell me about it."
"How's your dad doing?"
She nods. "He's getting better. He's up and around more now, walking with a cane. It's slow-going, but the physical therapy is helping."
"That's good."
"Yeah." She grimaces. "He's starting to drive me crazy at home. He's itching to get back to work and keeps pestering me to let him come with me to the office."
A sudden image of Keith begging Veronica to drive him to work flits through Logan's mind and he chuckles lightly.
Veronica sighs. "When he's better, I've decided I need to find my own place. I'm 28; I can't live with my dad forever."
"You know, you're welcome to crash at mine whenever you want."
She nods, giving a slight smile. "I know, and thank you, but your condo is all the way down in San Diego. Not exactly convenient for work."
"Yeah, good point." He nods. "The offer still stands though."
"Thanks." She nods, her expression becoming thoughtful. "So, I have some more news…"
"Yeah?" Logan's immediately on the alert. Veronica doesn't look worried, but you never know with her.
"I've decided to take the California bar exam."
"Really?" He smiles. Good for her.
"Yeah, well after looking into getting my PI licence again and seeing that a law degree is one of the ways in, I figured, maybe it is worth it after all," she admits. "And I thought about what you said before you left. You're right, it could be useful."
"That's great," Logan replies, biting back the urge to say 'Told you so'. "When will you take it?"
When she told him a few weeks ago she wasn't planning on taking the bar now that she was back in Neptune, he thought she was crazy. Not that he told her that, of course, but really, what's the point in spending three years in law school, graduating near the top of your class and then not taking the one set of exams that will actually allow you to practice law?
"Well, I've already missed the February exam dates, but I should be able to take it in the July session… I can file the application from March 1st."
"When's the exam?"
"Uh…" She glances at something off-screen. "July 26th, 27th and 28th."
He smiles, "I should be home by then."
Well, he hopes he will be. The tour end date they've been given is July 19th, but that means nothing when it comes to navy deployments. Chances are it'll be a few days, maybe even a few weeks, later. He doesn't want to tell Veronica that just yet though. He'd quite like to remain in denial and pretend that it will be 180 days and no more.
"Wow… God, yeah, you will," she says slowly, a hint of wonder in her tone. "That didn't even…"
"Forgetting about me already, huh?"
"I could never," she replies immediately.
They share a meaningful look, and Logan would be content to just sit here and watch her all day, but the time is a-ticking and he has places to be.
"Look, I'm gonna have to go in a minute—I'm not even supposed to be on Skype right now, since I didn't book a slot."
"Okay." She nods in understanding. "It's getting late here too, and I still need to get hold of Mac before I leave. You up to anything interesting today?"
"It's a no-fly day, so Chaos is organising a basketball tournament in the hangar this afternoon," he says.
Veronica frowns. "Do you even play basketball?"
"I do now," he says with a grin. Back in high school, he barely even touched a basketball, let alone ever actually played the sport. "Well, I can hold my own, at least."
"Well, good luck."
"Thanks. And you too, with your case."
They say goodbye and Veronica rings off, leaving Logan staring at the now empty screen in contemplation. 'Only' 147 days to go (maybe longer, an unwanted voice sounds in his head)… the next five months better pass really quickly.
Things settle down over the next few weeks, as Logan gets back into the rhythm of flying regular missions from the carrier, mixed in with the usual training sorties. They're mainly operating over Iraq, coordinating with the RAF Typhoon and Tornado jets already stationed out there. The missions are typically five or six hours long, and every time Logan has to suit up for one of them, he thinks of Veronica and her bathroom break questions. They've been pretty uneventful so far—no need for weapons yet, but it'll only be matter of time before they start launching air strikes.
Of course, it's just typical that he wakes one Thursday morning in early March with a stuffy nose and scratchy throat. He convinces himself it's just a 24-hour thing, and coughs and sneezes his way through the day, but a quick visit to the medical center the next morning confirms his suspicions: it's a full-on sinus infection. He's put on DNIF—Duties Not to Include Flying—which means he's grounded until the doctor clears him to fly again.
You wouldn't have thought that something as trivial as a blocked nose and a bit of sneezing would be enough to prevent a pilot from flying, but the g-forces and pressure changes in the cockpit can be dangerous if you're not at full health, especially when it comes to the sinuses.
So now he has at least a week, maybe two, of desk duties only, and Logan can't think of anything more boring. He can't even spend the extra time in the gym, because whenever he tries to do anything more energetic than walking, his head starts pounding and he can't breathe properly.
Instead, when he's not on duty, he spends an inordinate amount of time listening to Veronica's voice in his ear, watching her videos—he's received two more packages from her since that first one, both containing some of his favourite non-perishables, along with music, more movies and in the latest package, a few short videos showing her daily life around Neptune: walks on the beach, hanging out with Wallace and Mac, things like that—and poring over the worn copy of an old Victoria's Secret catalogue, which Bilbo found stashed at the bottom of his locker a few weeks ago. With no missions to keep him occupied and to keep the adrenaline going, he finds himself feeling antsy and claustrophobic and even a little depressed.
So, he emails Veronica as often as he can, mostly just short, playful messages, but occasionally he'll write longer ones, mostly when he's feeling particularly melancholy and missing her. She's been emailing back, but the tone of her replies have remained light, mainly jokes and banter, even when in response to his more serious emails, and just once he wishes she would drop the act and actually talk about her feelings. Other than a few 'I miss you's, she hasn't exactly been forthcoming on that front. She was a lot more open with him before he left, so he's hoping it's because she doesn't feel comfortable talking openly over email or Skype.
"Dude, for fuck's sake, quit moping," Bilbo tells him on Sunday when he's slumped in his airline-style chair in the Ready Room, feeling sorry for himself. "It's only a sinus infection."
"Easy for you to say," he grumbles. "You're not fuckin' grounded with nothing to do."
"Only for a few more days, man." Bilbo sounds like he's trying to curb his sarcasm. "Get over it."
"Yeah." Logan shrugs.
Bilbo settles into the chair beside him. "Okay, dude, what gives? You've been grounded before and you've never been this surly."
"It's nothin'," he mumbles.
"Not buyin' it." Bilbo just raises a knowing eyebrow. "Lemme guess: begins with 'V', ends in 'eronica'?"
"No." Logan's protest is weak, and he knows it.
"Look, I get it, man," says Bilbo. "It's never easy bein' away from 'em."
Logan sighs, resignedly, looking over at his squadron-mate. Bilbo's been in the navy two years longer than him; married for five years with a young son at home, a little boy named Anthony who must be nearly two by now.
"How do you do it, man?" he asks. "It's only been seven weeks and I'm already itching to get home."
"You manage. Because you have to." Bilbo shrugs, his tone matter of fact. "No one wants to be away from the people they love, but you don't have a choice, so you make the most of the time you do get with her, even if it's only through a computer screen, and you fill your days with work so you don't dwell on it."
"It's all well and good saying that, but actually doing it?" Logan shakes his head. "Not so easy."
"Just give it time, man. You're sick right now, and you know, we're at the seven-week slump… give it a couple of weeks and I bet you'll feel differently."
"Yeah."
Logan's not convinced of that, though Bilbo does have a point. It seems to be a standard symptom of long deployments to experience a dip in mood and a general feeling of being fed up around seven weeks in… it's that time when the initial excitement of being away has worn off, and you realise you're going to be stuck here for another four-plus months, with crappy food and bad internet and no fresh milk because it all ran out weeks ago.
"That's it, dude, I can't take the moping anymore. You're coming to the rec room with me."
Logan shakes his head again. "For the hundredth time, dude, I am not playing Dungeons and Dragons with you."
"Geez, it's not that bad." Bilbo raises his eyes heavenward. "You never know, you might actually enjoy it."
"Yeah, I don't think so." Logan snorts.
"What the fuck else are you gonna to with yourself, huh?" says Bilbo. "Come on… release the inner geek we know is hiding beneath all that snark."
Logan weighs up his options for a moment, before sighing.
"All right, fine. I'll play." He holds up a finger in warning. "But I am not getting dressed up, or putting on a stupid voice, or whatever else it is you do in that game."
Bilbo doesn't even justify that with a response, just shakes his head and gives a snort before turning and heading for the door.
"You coming, or what?"